Dear Fathers, Happy Father's Day!

The only essay written about father.
My father is a very messy person. He always wears old clothes. He was the ugliest person in our house. Whether it was going on a trip or going to a wedding, he bought us new clothes. But he wore old clothes. The same goes for the new year.
I remember one new year my father brought clothes for my brother, sisters and me. I also brought it to my mother.. But she had not even bought a saree.
Ah, this time too, they are trying to look like they are wearing old clothes...
When my mother said that, my father just stood there laughing. Don't you like to look beautiful, Dad? I thought so too. Some of the fathers who come to our school are even more beautiful than the principal. The children showed me their fathers. That is our father. My father used to come every day. I also showed my friends that he is my father. But they did not look at my father with such respect.
There was no food that my father liked to eat. It's a wonderful thing. He brings us everything to eat. He has brought us all the delicious food in the world like bread, cake, cheese, rice, fruit... When mom divided them, she took a portion for dad. I remember that father never ate until it was finished. I'm the little one. Father eats one out of five grapes and gives me four. Chocolate is given to me without eating it. When eating rice, I eat the tastiest food very quickly. Dad puts the most delicious things in his piegan on my piegan.
why
I don't like it son...
This man is an amazing man. There is no food that I like to eat. I don't like to wear clothes. I don't want to go to a party with my friends. Not fun. He always lived like a tree and a stone. It's quiet. mysterious tight He got angry like a devil. When you start hitting, you don't see yourself dying, you hit. After that he comes to cuddle.
But I know today. Dad liked to feed us the tastiest food in the world. Dad liked to see us wearing the most beautiful clothes in the world. Father wanted to see us live happily in this world. Father quietly taught me to give up my own happiness for the happiness of others. My father is my religion. I am his disciple. It is true that I will never meet that father again. Because when people give up like that, when they sacrifice themselves for others, they go beyond the world. That is why I am writing this. Fathers are Buddhas who have not yet transcended the sāsāra. This is their final existence.

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